Medicated late

I was reminded why I use pot. We went for a walk. After the breakfast I made and served to Noah in bed because the kids wanted me to. I didn’t have time to smoke.

I was a Negative Nancy. Whine. Bitch. Moan. Complain. Nothing is good enough. I’m never satisfied.

We talked about birthday stuff. For the past three years I’ve just… not been home on my birthday. That way I don’t get mad at Noah for doing nothing. I don’t like getting mad at Noah. I’d rather avoid him on days when I think I’m going to be mad pretty much no matter what he does.

I need to let it go and try again. I’ve really punished Noah long enough.But there were several years in a row of not so much as a card or a flower or a cupcake. Just, “Oh. Happy Birthday.” And that was back before he cooked for me like he does. I bet he’d get more elaborate in his meals now.

I need to try again and not be pissy and not hold on to bitterness. He made some mistakes and he bloody well knows it. I think he’d prefer that I not have a fourth birthday in a row of avoiding him.

  1. Disneyland with the kids 2. Camping by myself (this was great) 3. Road trip–we were with Mitty in Georgia.

It does matter that it is the day of my actual birthday. Doing something on a different day isn’t the same. It isn’t that I need a huge party or anything.

I’m nice to people. Sometimes I stop and recognize that I am nice. And part of my sharp edge is my sadness about the ways in which I have not gotten that back.

The older I get the more I see that it isn’t that folks were that mean to me. Not Noah, not my mom. But I often don’t know how to feel love from them and that is functionally mean in my brain.

And of course I’m crying because today is Father’s Day. I have a lot of Dad’s and Daddy’s that are… I guess nice to me. Noah commented that Dad is proof that I can give someone second chance after second chance after second chance if they really show up for me over the long-run. Dad and I have had some issues. I keep coming back and so does he because of a lot of investment of energy and work and love. I’m not sure what he would have to do to run out of chances. Hurt my children. Beyond that… I’ll figure out how to forgive him because he has loved me when other people really didn’t show much sign of that. He showed up and took care of me when I needed it. He is taking it seriously to be in my children’s lives. He is appropriate with them. There are no grooming behaviors.

But none of these people were part of my life as a child. These are all people with whom I am trying to re-parent/fix damage. So. Much. Damage.

I think I am so fucking pissed at Noah’s parents for not wanting to go because it feels like they could have been my shot at having a family and they are opting out because they don’t give a shit. Because I won’t let them set all the terms. So fuck me.

Come to Texas. Kiss their ass. Or get…what she feels like shipping sometimes as she cleans out her god damn attic.

It’s not about the money they have never had jobs in their lives because they are rich.

So. It’s a choice. It’s a fuck you choice. And I wonder how much I sorta love that and hate that and hold it against Noah and give him brownie points for it at the same time.


I am in my feels.

I feel kind of ashamed of myself that I only get motivated to really pursue my friends when I feel some specific “ok” signal is given and interest in sex is the strongest and easiest. It doesn’t have to. Obviously I maintain platonic relationships. But the… length of time in between when I can ask for a visit is long. I feel like I’m imposing and offering little.

I feel like like I have so very little to offer anyone.

One thought on “Medicated late

  1. Noah

    Yeah. Stuff with my parents is complicated. It would have been very hard if I had a closer relationship with them. But it’s not like it’s utterly perfect this way, either.

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